


Running on Faith

by Madmarchhare3



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Canon Divergence, Fluff and Smut, It all ends happily ever after, M/M, Oral Sex, Sex Pollen, Soulmates, What would happen if I dropped the Winchesters into Harry Dresden's world, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-11
Updated: 2014-10-18
Packaged: 2018-02-12 16:30:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2116854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madmarchhare3/pseuds/Madmarchhare3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enter the Winchester Brothers into the world of Harry Dresden. Some mysterious deaths involving lovers happen on Harry's turf and gains the interest of the Winchesters. But what happens when the brothers are hit with the same condition as the victims? And what will Dean do if what he's feeling isn't just the result of a love spell? </p><p>Set during season 3 of Supernatural. If you read Side Jobs in the Dresden series, you'll know where this is going.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kagemirai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kagemirai/gifts).



> I don't own Harry Dresden, Sam Winchester or Dean Winchester (but will happily accept them as donations).
> 
> A gift to the lovely Kagemirai to which I wouldn't be writing if it weren't for her.

"You're a what, now?" Dean asked in the nonplussed voice of a man who, having seen just about everything between heaven and hell, just couldn't get up the energy to be surprised.

"I'm a wizard." Replied the freakishly tall man he was questioning. "And I sometimes consultant for the Chicago P.D." the man continued, exasperated like was the fiftieth time he's had to explain this. He flashed his plastic consultant nametag to prove his point.

Dean just blinked in response, his pen poised over his notepad as if he he wasn't sure this was worth the ink and woodpulp to record. And really, the man was just too tall. He wouldn't exactly say the wizard was a giant, seeing as both he and Sam seriously outclassed this guy in the muscle department, but at 6'1" Dean was not used to being towered over by anyone other than his brother. It was bad enough that Sam was younger and had three inches over him, but this guy was at least half a foot taller.

What's worse was that the freak advertised (in the phone book, of all goddamn places) that he was a wizard for hire. Who in their right fucking mind would be so stupidly crazy to want to draw that kind of attention? It's a wonder that hunters weren't swarming the streets of Chicago with nutjobs like this guy running around. Of course, the only people Dean had ever seen publicly flaunting their use of magic were murderous witches and hotline con-artists. Dean was leaning towards the latter since the son of a bitch had been doing this for years and was still breathing.

Dean licked his lips and tightened them into a thin line. Some days there was just not enough coffee and Jack Daniels in the world to deal with this shit.

  
"I...see, Mr. Dresden. So they actually pay you money to walk onto a crime scene with that big gimmer stick and flapping coat to do what, exactly?"

  
The tall man glowered as he leaned on the carved object in hand. "It's called a staff, Agent...Skynyrd, was it? Anyways, are you just going to keep asking really unimportant questions or will you let me do my job?"

"Sure, just as soon as you tell me what the hell you're supposed to be consulting on. This looks like a plain old suicide pact to me." said Dean, noting the rather gory bedroom scene of a young man and woman with their heads blown off while in the position of coitus. Queen playing on a vinyl record (At least they died listening to good music). The walls were painted in blood and brain matter over top of the hundreds and hundreds of pictures of the dead couple in various Chicago tourist spots. Dead and creepy as hell.

Dean had to suppress a shudder. This was the third couple within two weeks that committed suicide in Chicago. Two's coincidence, three's a pattern. And right up the Brothers Winchester's alley.

Dean honestly didn't give two shits what this self-proclaimed wizard had to say. He just needed to stall this guy and the petite, blond police detective for time while his brother finished discreetly sweeping the room with the EMF before anyone could notice that they weren't really FBI agents.

"So why then does the FBI have an interest in a suicide pact?" asked Detective Karrin Murphy (the petite blonde, whom Dean was really considering on asking out until she became annoyingly observant).

  
"Why is Special Investigations hiring an "Eldorado" extra to help solve a crime?" Dean replied in his usual smartass manor when dealing with civilians and gesturing at Dresden's black leather duster. _Come on, Sammy hurry it up_!

Sam, to his credit, was not having any luck getting consistent readings on the homemade EMF device. The thing would beep and squeal at random or when the wizard moved, causing Sam to wince uncomfortably from the sound in his ear buds.

"You know," said Dresden, eyes narrowing and leering over Dean in a sorry attempt to establish authority "I'm a private investigator-"

"I thought you said you were a wizard." Dean said, cutting him off.

"That too," he gritted between clenched teeth. "I'm trained to read people, their body language, the way they talk. And they way I see it, you and your partner," he said, nodding to Sam. "Agent..whatever 70's rock band, seem really off."

"What? You mean to tell me you don't use a crystal ball or some kind of hoodoo herbs to help with your well paid police consulting? The hell kind of wizard are you supposed to be?"

The wizard pinched the bridge of his nose. "Stars and Stones, and I thought I was an annoying little shit." He muttered.

Just then as Sam got a little too close to the supposed magic-user, the EMF gave an ear-piercing shriek, crackled with some rather impressive sparks of electricity, coughed and died. Sam gave an undignified yelp and ripped his ear buds off in auditory pain.

"Yeah, I might have failed to mention that electronic devices tend to go boom in my presence." Said the wizard, a little too cheerfully.

"Ok, I think we got all we need, thank you for your time." Dean grinned with a little too much teeth. "Detective Murphy, our office will send your office a copy of the report. Agent Leppard, let's leave the wizard here to his police consulting."

Dean tried to look Dresden in the eye before leaving, but strangely failed as the wizard was very determined to only bore a hole in Dean's forehead instead. Definitely suspicious.

He then broke the staring contest that never was and gave Detective Murphy the full up and down once more (cute, but way too angry looking) before curling his fingers around Sam's bicep to pull them both out of the apartment.

"What the hell was that about?" Dean hissed once they were on the street, yanking at the polyester noose around his neck. "How am I supposed to find another functional walkman these days? Those store bought EMF meters aren't worth shit!"

"Hey don't look at me, the thing blew up only because you were pissing the witch off. He was throwing all kinds of hoodoo off just by breathing."

" _Wizard_ , you mean." Dean said mockingly. The brothers approached the trunk of the Impala parked on the street. Sam opened the trunk and dumped the still sizzling EMF in while Dean ripped his suit jacket off and tossed it in as well. He hated suites. "I don't care what Gandalf calls himself, all his type are bad news and should be ganked."

Sam grimaced "Well, I didn't find any hex bags, sigils, spells or even sulphur. I'm not sure what this could be."

"You think this Dresden could be guilty?"

Sam glanced back at his brother as they got in the car, the doors squeeking. "Of being a magic user? Definitely. Of being the suspect, not so much. That Sergeant seems to trust him, and it doesn't really add up."

"Seriously? Cuz I can totally see his motive." Dean started the car, the engine turning over and rumbling in a smooth purr.

"And that would be...?"

"Cause all these mysterious crimes that the poor, overworked, and cluless C.P.D. can't solve on their own, swoop in to save their asses, magically solve the crime with no evidence to point towards him and no other magic users to call his bullshit." Dean turned the wheel and pulled away from the curb.

"Wow, Dean. You almost make Dresden sound clever." Sam replied in mock astonishment, With such intelligence and ingenuity to fleece the taxpayers money, you'd think he'd be driving something better than a battered Volkswagen Beetle." Sam's voice dripped with so much sarcasm that a mop and bucket might be needed.

"See, driving a German-made piece of crap already makes him suspicious." Dean waived a finger in emphasis. "Though it could be just a cover. We could always try breaking into his house and seeing if he's been doing any rituals to cause these couples to wanna kill themselves."

"Yeah, Dean that's a great idea. As I recall, the last time we broke into a witches home we had to make a rather embarrassing trip to the ER and something tells me that Dresden defends his threshold with more than just an STD curse."

Dean winced at the memory. "Ok," he conceded, "how about you do your researching thing and see what these couples have in common and I'll tail Dresden and see where we wind up."

"And if he catches you?"

"I'll tell him I'm sightseeing."

Sam's brow furrowed and gave Dean bitchface #12 (worried but pissed). Dean looked back with annoyance. Sam had been acting funny since they left the Mystery Spot last month and it baffled Dean. Whatever spooked him so bad as to grab Dean and hightail it out of town in the middle of a case, Sam wasn't saying a word about it. Dean didn't know if it had something to do with his countdown to to his trip to the Pit or something else entirely, but the end result was that Sam has turned into a mother hen and it was getting on Dean's nerves.

"What? Don't look at me like that. You're worse than an old woman." Dean shoved at Sam shoulder.

"Well can you blame me? With your track record-"

"Dude, stop. It's just a hack witch, I'll be fine."

"Text me every hour."

"That's seriously going overboard."

"DEAN!"

"Ok, ok!" Dean threw a hand up in defeat. "Would you like to know when I'm taking a fucking piss too?"

"Just erring on the side of caution. And I don't need to know that much detail, thank you."

"You need to get laid."

"Don't need you telling how to run my sex life either, Dean." Sam grumbled.

  
Dean could have sworn he saw his brother blush.  
***********************************************************  
Dresden had to be the most boring person on the face of the planet. For most of the two days that Dean tailed him, all he did was sit in that hole-in-the-ground apartment of his (doing nefarious witchy things, no doubt) or walk what Dean assumed was his familiar: a gigantic-ass dog that looked waaay too much like a tank with fur for Dean's comfort. He once debated heavily on whether he should go against Sam's logic and break into the apartment anyway just to take a poke around, but after one look at that dog, Dean suddenly decided that his brother really was the smart one in the family and should be listened to more often.

And since Sam was the smart one, Dean did what he was told for once and did text every hour or so just to let him know that the earth hadn't swallowed him up and no, a pack of wild meerkats had not rendered the flesh from his bones. But it was in this bar that Dean had followed Dresden to where he had to to make an actual call to Sam.

"Dude, you have to stop what you're doing and get here now."

"What's going on? Are you in trouble?" Sam asked urgently. He sounded like he'd leap out of the phone to come to his brother's rescue.

"Oh hell yeah, I'm in trouble. Trouble of never being able to drink another kind of beer ever again. This shit's the beer of the gods!"

"Dean.." He could practically hear bitchface #4 (annoyed as hell at Dean's failure to take shit seriously) over the phone. Dean gave an exaggerated moan as he bit into his lunch.

"And this steak sandwich is pure fucking sin! I think my mouth just had an orgasim." The phone went completely silent on Sam's end. Probably put it on mute so Dean didn't have to hear his pissed muttering.

"Would you at least like to hear what I've found in my research, jerk?" Sam asked after a few moments. The kid sounded too tense for Dean's liking and it threatened to ruin his food high. Naturally this calls for merciless teasing.

"Oh my bitchy Sammy, I love it when you talk nerdy to me over the phone." He replied huskly. Sam growled. The kid really does need to get laid. "But I'd prefer it face to face with your lips wrapped around one of these beers."

"GODDAMNIT DEAN!"

"The place is called McAnally's Pub. Get. Here. Now." And Dean hung up the phone.

Twenty minutes later, Sam plunked down on the barstool next to Dean with bitchface #5 (you are such a crappy big brother) plastered on and his shoulders hunched with the long suffering of his brothers antics. Dean simply responded with his devil-may-care smile that usually dropped panties in a five mile radius and slid a brown unlabeled bottle in front of his brother.

"This'll take care of everything, baby boy." said Dean. Sam picked up the bottle and lifted it up to his lips. It was in mid swig that his posture suddenly shifted from hunched and tense to piqued and surprised.

"Mmm. That is good." Sam admitted. Dean's grin only widened. "So you followed Dresden here?"

"Yeah, I watched him for a little bit. The only thing he did was have lunch then go home."

"And you're still here drinking and not tailing the wizard." Sam gave his brother a pointed look. "You'd never do that. I'm beginning to believe that the beer is magically ruffied."

The man behind the bar they were sitting at stopped cleaning a glass tumbler and suddenly looked up at Sam with a scandalized expression. Dean hurriedly moved to placate the bald and somewhat intimidating barkeep.

"Please don't get us thrown out of here, Sammy" Dean murmured once he made his profuse apologies and they moved to a free table in a shadowy corner with a clear view of the entire room. "The man brews these himself, it's a matter of pride. Besides, didn't you read the sign when you walked in? This is Neutral Ground in accordance with the Unseelie Accords. Your pre-law ass should've noticed that. I was talking to the locals and anybody who tries anything funny here gets an Avon call from mountain trolls."

"Unseelie Accords? As in _Faries_?" Sam looked skeptical.

"Yeah, apparently Chicago is a hotbed for supernatural activities and Dresden is the unofficial Sheriff in town. Fairies and Vampire mafias and all sorts of other craziness that no group of hunters can tackle without dire consequences. So, to keep the peace, the fairies set up this joint to be some kind of neutral meeting place. I'm not sure if I should be freaked out or be kinda cool with it.." Dean grinned as he took another swig of beer.

Mac, the bartender and owner walked over and set a steak sandwich in front of Sam.

"Sorry for the offense." Sam said sheepishly. Mac just grunted in acceptance and popped the lid on an unopened bottle of microbrew for Dean. "You sure you want to be eating in a fairy bar? People might get the wrong idea about your preferences." Sam smirked.

"The owner's human enough. Now eat your goddamn sandwich.

The brothers ate and drank in companionable silence as they enjoyed probably the best meal they've shared in a long time. There was something soothing and tension diffusing about the strange place with it's old, dark wood and rich, appetizing aromas. Sam would say something about fung shuay probably, and how it affected the collective mood of the clientele. Dean noted that there were a lot of thirteens in the rustic pub; thirteen wooden pillars with carved pictures that looked like something that belonged in one of Bobby's books, thirteen tables, and thirteen bar stools. Dean liked it.

"Ok," said Dean after finishing the last of his sandwich. "What'd you find."

"Well," started Sam between mouthfulls, "All three couples were not really couples before the deaths. The first pair were just volunteers together at a fair, their families and friends were unaware of any kind of relationship between the two. The second were barely acquaintances from what I could tell, and the third from the other day..." Sam trailed off, grimacing.

"Yeah, spit it out." Dean said impatiently.

"Were brother and sister."

Dean choked on his beer. Eww. How on earth could anyone think of their sibling like that? Dean glanced at Sam half revolted, half curious and unbiddenly imagined what it might be like to want your brother.

Dean wrinkled his nose. Men were just...ick. No offense to the guys who swung that way, but nothing made Dean's balls want to crawl into his body more than a pitcher of ice water to the crotch and being hit on by another dude. It was just the way he was.

But, on the other hand, Sam...was just Sam, not just another guy. He didn't really fall into the category of gender in Dean's mind (though it could just be Sam's girly hair throwing him off). On an everyday basis, Dean didn't mind and actually welcomed the small gestures of brotherly affection he got from Sam. But if he ever went further...well....

Dean ripped himself from that train of thought. "Oh that's just sick!" he barked at Sam (and at himself). He hoped to whatever benevolent deity was listening that the dim lighting would hide his burning cheeks and the need to shift in his chair. "So I take it this means that all these people were banging against their will?"

"You guessed it." Sam responded not seeming to notice his brother's discomfort. "It could be anything from a cursed object, to a love spell."

  
"Well that's just great. Where the hell are we supposed to go to find where they picked that up?"

"Well we're just lucky that I'm that good at breaking into people's offices to glance at their police notes while you chase after wizards." said Sam, leaning back in his chair and lacing his hands behind his head, a smug look on his face. "They've all been to the State Fair in Springfield within five days of their deaths."

"You are such a damned drama queen. You could have just said that from the beginning and spared me the sibs boinking." said Dean sourly.

"Am not. You're just jealous of my skills."

"Are too, and you have no skill."

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

"Enough. Truce." Sam held up a hand and rubbed at his temple with the other. Dean, on the other hand, really tried to keep up the facade of being mad, but childish bickering had always been a favorite pastime of his and Sam just made it too damn much fun. "The fair ends tomorrow so we better get a move on and see what we can tonight before they close shop."

"You promise you won't freak out if you see a clown?"

"Dean!"

"It's ok if you're scared, I'll take care of you, Samantha." Dean smirked at bitchface #8 (I'm seriously considering breaking my brother's jaw) as Sam threw down a pair of twenties, stormed out of the pub with Dean figuratively nipping at his heels and chuckling the whole way."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Winchesters hit the fair and find more than they bargained for.

Eight hours later, Dean and Sam were sitting on a bench at the State Fair and Dean looked fit to strangle his brother.

"I don't think we're going to pick up anything on the EMF. Dresden scrambled it to hell." said Sam, giving the walkman a shake and a slap. It squeaked pitifully in response.

"Keep slapping, it might work if you break it some more." Dean eyed Sam's treatment of the doomed device contemptuously. Sam had dragged him around all day and they had bupkis to show for it and Dean's nerves were frayed. The EMF had been acting up the whole time, setting Dean's teeth on edge. Dean gave a frustrated huff. "We've walked this area twice and haven't seen anything yet. I don't think anything's happening here."

"Well the fair shuts down in an hour, you can deal until then."

"Fine." Dean pouted. He just wanted to lie down after walking around all day. "Let's check out that area where the rides are. I don't think we've hit that yet." Dean got up and Sam followed him towards a clearing where the typical carnival death-trap rides were. Last minute riders stood in short lines for one last go on the unstable contraptions before closing time. Dean hated carnie rides. The things were no better than airplanes, in his opinion.

After a few minutes of wandering, and not a sound from the meter, they passed an attraction called _The Tunnel of Terror_ , a cheesy looking haunted house ride. Suddenly, the device screamed to life. Sam and Dean paused in their tracks.

"Go around the back and see if there's a way in." said Dean with a jerk of his head. Sam nodded in reply and worldlessly cornered the building. Dean walked around the entrance, looking for any indication of supernatural activity and finding none. Within a few minutes, Sam returned.

"The service entrance in the back is chained up with a combination lock. I can't pick that."

"We'll just have to get on the ride and see what happens. After you, Sammy." Dean held his hands out, gesturing to the ride entrance.

The operator, a sleepy looking old man, glanced up at them. "Well, you two are certainly different than my usual customers. That'll be three tickets each."

Dean plastered on his people-friendly grin. "Yeah, hi. I'm Mark Solo and this is Harrison Walker. We're carnival ride inspectors from the State of Illinois Safety Board. We've been getting complaints and need to inspect this ride for any safety hazards."

The carnie's sleepy expression didn't shift. "Three tickets each."

Sam piped up, "Uh, sir? If you could just let us-"

"Three. Tickets. Each." This guy was stubborn. Fortunately, Sam knew how to deal with stubborn better than Dean, in the form of parting with Dean's hard earned pool money. Sam slipped the old man a twenty. Dean glowered. The carnie smiled.

"Well, step right up! But you'll have to sit in the cart and make your inspection from there. No telling what might pop out and hit you in the face."

The carnie pulled a lever and out rolled a rickety rollercoaster styled cart. Sam and Dean got in the cart and Sam buckled the leather safely belt over their laps.

"Really? You afraid that we'll fall out and have an accident?" said Dean.

"Shut up. I have a hard enough time getting you to wear a seatbelt in the Impala."

"You two enjoy yourselves now." The carnie gave a sickening smile, pulled another lever and the brothers were plunged into the interior darkness of the ride as the rickety cart rumbled along on it's track.

Dean pulled out a little pen light and Sam pulled the EMF to pick up on anything they may pass, but was getting only static. So far, nothing was happening. The cart rolled into a room decked out to look like hell's farmhouse with severed limbs hanging from rusty farm equipment. The cart came to a halt and the EMF meter made half hearted blips.

"I think it's on the fritz agai-" Sam was interrupted when a scarecrow suddenly dropped out of the ceiling, startling both Sam and Dean enough to draw their guns with lightening fast reflexes in spite of the tight squeeze of the cart.

Dean gave a nervous chuckle. "Easy cowboy." He said and they lowered their weapons, but didn't put them away. "No readings?"

"I dunno. Maybe?" said Sam, shrugging unhelpfuly. "Let's take a look around." He unbuckled the belt and the brother's got up to inspect the room. With cat-like stealth, the brothers worked through the room as a well coordinated team. Every movement by one was perfectly in tuned with the other.

The Winchester Brothers practically lived in each other's back pocket for most of their lives, and were well trained to read the other's body language on a subconscious level, but today Dean felt very, very aware of Sam's presence. It was a comforting feeling, knowing that his brother had his back, that he wouldn't fail when Dean needed him. And in return, there wasn't anything Dean wouldn't do for Sam. An unbidden thought crossed Dean's mind, one that repeatedly came up with no answer in sight: _Who's going to be there for Sam when my time runs out?_

But for all their ingrained caution, the meter remained silent. Dean banished the thought, it wasn't helpful to be distracted during a case. When the cart began to move again, the brothers sat back down and entered the next scene.

The ride continued with a few twists and a few more horror scenes to include a creepy hospital room and a graveyard full of fake zombies. Each time, the cart stopped, Sam and Dean got up and investigated with nary a crackle from the EMF.

Although the ride was a bust, Dean did get to enjoy the look on Sam's face when a severed clown head popped out of a shadow at the end of the ride.

"Bro, I've seen you wrestle werewolves and vampires and you're still terrified of clowns." Dean chuckled as they walked away.

"So glad to entertain you, Dean." Sam accepted Dean's ribbing with an air of indifference to hide the adrenaline shakes.

"It's ok, there are just some things too traumatic to get over." He said, bumping into Sam's shoulder. Sam smiled then shoved back with his whole weight, making Dean stumble. They continued like that for a while, pushing and shoving and joking with one another like they hadn't done since they were kids.

Dean looked at Sam and painfully realized that he had missed this side of his brother. As the sands ran out on Dean's hourglass, Sam smiled less and less. They never took time to have fun and just be family during his very limited time on earth. Sam was breaking his back looking for a way to nullify Dean's contract. It might be high time he force his brother into a vacation, just the two of them, no monsters, hunting, or research. Just doing all the things they always wanted and were denied thanks to the Life.

Warmth bloomed in Dean's chest and he was suddenly overcome with affection for Sam. His crazy, nerdy, beautiful Sam who's life he bought with his own and was glad to do it. His life belonged to Sam from the moment their Dad had placed him in his arms. Every facet of his brother, from his gigantic feet to his stupid haircut, were precious and Dean would let himself savour every moment they had.

Sam caught Dean staring at him. Instead of a rebuke a small smile that reached his eyes graced his features and he threw his arm over Dean's shoulders like when they were boys. Normally Dean would have shaken him off, but instead he returned the gesture. He didn't know where this sudden attack of nostalgia came from, but it felt good and he allowed himself to enjoy it the warm weight of Sam's arm. He caught a whiff of Sam's scent, a warm mixture of cordite, cinnamon gum and the Impala. He smelled like _Home_.

Dean had to resist to sudden, and very uncharacteristic desire to shove his face into Sam's neck, smell his skin and let himself be flooded by that comforting scent and burn into his memory. The idea of it made Dean's heart suddenly increase in tempo.

As if sensing Dean's thoughts Sam stopped and pulled away. As his hand slid over Dean's shoulder, his fingers brushed against Dean's neck for the briefest of moments. A pleasant buzz of electricity shivered down his spine, but was soon left feeling cold from the loss of Sam's heat.

"Wait right here for a second." Sam smiled, a hint of mischief colored his features. Sam really did have a nice face.

"What? You see something?" Dean raised an eyebrow.

"Just keep an eye out for anything weird related to the case. I'll be right back." Sam turned towards the food vendors, his long stride quickly taking him away and into the mass of bodies before Dean could protest at being left behind.

Dean continued looking in the direction that Sam disappeared to for a long moment. Dean felt lighter when he was with Sam. Happy, even. There were times when Sam would give him this puppy dog look that made him feel cracked open and exposed. Dean had a great well of feelings for his brother, most he kept buried behind the face of a jackass. You didn't just go around telling your little brother that you loved him, that he was your reason for breathing. It just wasn't the Winchester way.

For some reason, those hidden emotions were threatening to spill out of Dean tonight. He had so little time left, and had so much he wanted to tell Sam before he went. Dean's eyes stung a little and he swiped them with the back of his hand. He hoped he could keep this part of him, the part that belonged to Sam, safe in Hell. If anything, he wouldn't let the demons rip that away from him.

"Hey."

Dean jerked in surprise at Sam's voice suddenly so close. Sam was the only one who could sneak up on him. Dean feigned annoyance at being caught unawares but soon cracked a wide smile at the wax paper wrapped object in Sam's hand.

"You brought me pie! Sammy I could kiss you." Dean raised the deep-fried pastry to his mouth and took a bite. Dean moaned in delight. It was apple, his favorite. "Love me some pie." He murmured with his mouth full.

Sam balefully rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that'll give the townsfolk something to talk about."

Dean tilted his head back and smirked. "Wouldn't they love it." He sassed.

Sam snorted, the corner of his mouth twitched upward. He bit into his own pie, cherry, by the looks of it. Dean watch his brother, his eyes were strangely drawn to Sam's chewing mouth. His thoughts flicked back to the convention in the pub as he wondered what would people say if he did lock lips with his brother. Might actually be hot, in the same way that twins with double D's were. They were both awesomely good looking men, after all. Perhaps instead of hustling pool for cash, they should have gone into the porn industry.

"Do you wanna hang back for a bit after they close and see if anything happens?" Sam asks.

"Sounds like a plan." Dean replied hurriedly, his face hot. "Umm, w-we should go move the car, through so the carnies don't see it by itself and think they can molest my baby." Dean swallowed hard and stared at his boots as he toed at the hard packed earth, not risking another a glance at Sam.

Sam nodded and made a sound of agreement. As he turned to go, Dean noticed a smear of red on the corner of Sam's mouth and was hit with an impulse. A very stupid, toe tingling impulse.

"Hey man, you got cherry on your face." Dean reached up to swipe the pie filling away with his thumb. Instead he found his hand completely bypassing it's intended destination to curl around the back of Sam's head, pull him forward....and he licked the corner of his brothers mouth.

Dean's lips closed and sucked the last little bit of the sticky sweetness from Sam's skin, tasting him on his tongue. Dean jerked back, eyes wide in surprise at his actions. Sam stood frozen, mouth hanging open as he looked back, equally stunned.

He blinked once, and Dean flinched back, anticipating a well earned punch to the face. His heart was in his throat, racing a mile a minute. Sure, he thought about kissing Sam, but he didn't actually mean to do it.

"Ah, d-dude..I..Ah..s-sorr..." but before Dean could stammer out an apology, both pies fell to the ground as Sam surged forward, grasped the lapels of Dean's jacket in his huge hands, slammed him against a wall....

And gave Dean the most spectacular, mind-blowing kiss of his life.

Dean kissed back with just as much enthusiasm. The brothers battled it out with lips and tongues, breathing into each other. Sam still tasted of sweet cherry pie. Dean's fingers wove their way into Sam's hair and tugged at the roots, earning him a moan from his brother that made his dick twitch.

Dean's whole body was buzzing and he felt high as a kite. He was kissing Sam. He was kissing Sam and he loved it. Was filled to the brim with a crying joy that he'd never felt before. It was like his heart was going to leap out from his mouth and into Sam's. And he'd give it, give Sammy everything so that there was nothing left for those fucking demons to claim.

Sam pulled away from Dean's mouth, placed one kiss each on his jaw and neck and just held Dean tightly as they both caught their breaths and tried to make sense of what just happned. And then it hit Dean like a ton of bricks. _Oh hell_...

"Sam," Dean pulled away and looked at Sam, panting and eyes blown wide with desire. "We've been roofied."


	3. Chapter 3

The engine of the Impala roared in the night as Sam and Dean drove as fast as the could away from the fair, both agreeing that they were in no condition to tackle whatever thing was causing this. They'd need back-up, and fast. Unfortunately, Bobby was too far away and Dean was not about to tell him what had just transpired. That left groveling to the Wizard Dresden for help, who, unhelpfully, only held regular business hours. It totally chafed Dean that the guy was a freak and got paid for it.

"Do you think it was the pie?" Sam asked. He was leaning as far away from Dean in the passenger seat as he could without hanging out the window and trying his best to not look at him.

"Naw, I started feeling it before that. I just didn't recognize it until your tongue was halfway down my throat." Dean replied gruffly.

Sam huffed. "You weren't complaining."

"Yeah, well that's what love spells do. They make you feel like it's natural and you want it." Dean bit out, sharply.

"Or they bring out something that was already there." Sam waived a hand "Everyone we meet always assumes we're a couple."

"Dude, I have never looked at you with the queer eye before and I don't intend to start now."

"Whatever." Sam replied. "I think there's something going on with that Tunnel of Terror ride. I don't know what, but we should start from there after we call Dresden and get him on board."

"That's not until tomorrow morning!" Dean shouted "Are we even going to last that long?"

"I don't know, Dean!" Sam replied, his tone raised and exasperated "I don't know about you, but I'm not feeling particularly suicidal!"

"Neither am I, but but I'm not exactly thinking brotherly thoughts here either!" Dean yelled.

Sam raised an eyebrow at that. "What are you thinking, big brother?" Sam asked, his demeanor suddenly downshifing, voice low as he gave Dean a look that was almost predatory.

"Umm..." Dean spared his brother a nervous glance as he swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing. "I'll get back to you on that."

Sam leaned a little too much into Dean's space for his comfort. His eyes dark. "And what if I said that I don't care. That we have less than two months before you're gone and we don't have time for regrets."

Dean almost closed his eyes in resignation. Oh fuckit. What did he have to lose? He wanted Sam and he was already going to Hell. But it was Sam who would be living with the aftermath.

"Because Sam, it's not real and you know it."

Sam leaned back into his seat and blew out a pent up breath. "Yeah. Sure. Let's just hole up for the night and call Dresden in the morning." Sam paused, and glanced at his brother. "We should probably get two rooms."

"The hell we are! We're sticking together."

Sam gave Dean a pointed look.

"Just not that kind of together." He quickly added.

Dean had to fight down the gnawing sensation in his gut from the thought of being separated from Sam. They always shared a room, for both money and safety. Sam had disappeared too many times on Dean's watch and he wasn't about to repeat history because of some stupid side effect of the love-whatever that they don't know about.

"That's going to be really difficult." Sam replied, frustrated.

 _Amen to that, brother mine._ Dean thought to himself.

Dean pulled off at the next exit for a cheap motel of their usual fare. Once parked, Dean got them one room with two queens as always. With keys in hand, the boys grabbed their gear and entered the room, doing their best to not brush against each other. Dean thew down his bag down on the bed closest to the door as was custom for them. Even in his sleep, Dean was looking out for little brother. Now he needed to protect him from himself.

Even though Sam was on the other side of the room, Dean was still so very aware of him. Every shuffle of his big feet, the shift in his stance, hell, even his heartbeat absorbed Dean's attention and he wasn't even looking. Every cell in his body was screaming for Sam's touch; to feel that joy he felt in Sam's arms. He had so little happiness in his life. Why shouldn't he take it?

"Dean" Sam whispered in a small, pleading voice.

Dean whipped his head around on reflex to look at his brother. He was leaning against the far wall, face in his hands. His shirt was pulled tight against his sculpted chest, his narrow hips thrust forward away from the wall. Dean felt his mouth go dry, drinking in the sight of him. How could he have gone his whole life not noticing how very beautiful Sam was.

Sam dropped his hands from his face and Dean had to remember how to breath. In two months time, he'd never see that face again. Sam's voice was so soft, Dean could hardly hear it. "Please?"

"Fuck it." In less than two seconds, Dean crossed the room and had his arms full of Sam as he pressed his lips against his brothers. Their kisses were wild and frantic, their hands were everywhere, reacquainting with the other's oh so familiar body. The sounds of their wet lips smacking and heavy breathing spurred them on further.

Sam began tugging at the hem of Dean's shirt, tucked into his jeans. Dean raised his arms as Sam lifted it up and over his head, tossing to the floor, Sam's shirt quickly following. They continued their kissing and that fierce joy returned to Dean at the skin-to-skin contact. Dean senses were overwhelmed with Sam. He was so warm and firm and just...good. His smell and taste were everything Dean could have ever wanted.

Sam pushed them away from the wall with his massive shoulder muscles and leaned Dean down on the closest bed, their mouths never separating. Dean finally did break the kiss, but his eyes never left Sam's as he scooted back on the bed, kicking his boots off.

Sam crawled over top of him and reconnected their lips. His hips lined up with Dean's perfectly and he began to grind into his older brother. They both moaned as their straining erections rubbed against one another, separated by their jeans. Dean dipped his hands below Sam's waistline and pressed his fingers into the taunt flesh of Sam's ass. Sam broke the kiss and stared deep into Dean's eyes as he pushed his chest up and away, bearing all his weight down on his hips.

The friction was too much. Dean felt his balls begin to draw up, he just needed a little more...

"I'm gonna come, Dean. Come with me."

Sam's voice was all Dean needed to send him over the edge. Dean cried out as his orgasim exploded from his body. His back arched and shook. Sam gave a shutter and moaned Dean's name as he gave one more thrust into Dean's hips in his release. 

Sam rolled bonelessly off of Dean and onto his back on the bed. His chest rising and falling in deep breaths, his forearm resting over his eyes as he recovered from the high of his release. Dean's arm rested across his brother's firm abdomen, needing some kind of contact.

They laid in silence for a few moments, just listening to each other's breathing and the slowing of their rapid heart beats. Dean's roughened voice broke the silence of their small respite. 

"Dude, we just had sex." 

Sam snorted. "That wasn't sex. It was barely dry humping." 

"Oh really?" Dean fought back a chuckle, "call it what you want, but I know what your O-Face looks like now, a-and.." he laughed, "i-it's ju-st..ha..priceless!" Dean had to keep glancing away from Sam's face to keep busting his gut. 

"Oh is it?" Sam replied in mock offense, sitting up on his forearm to loom over Dean. "Lets talk about your face, shall we? The next time you fuck, you should consider doing in front of a mirror, because when you come, you look like you're aiming for pornstar of the year and over-shooting it by a mile." 

Dean lost his battle and let loose and honest-to-god belly laugh that shook him to the core. Seeing his brother crack up caused Sam to laugh  along with him. The mutual realization of just how ridiculous they looked only made them laugh harder at the insanity that was their lives. Just another crazy predicament that the Winchester Brothers found themselves in and would get through like always. 

It was as if they didn't just commit love-spell induced incest and had only barely escaped being caught stealing Bobby's best whiskey instead. 

Dean couldn't bring himself to feel guilty over what had just taken place, he was feeling just too damn good. Tears were gathering in the corner of his eyes as he covered his beet-red face with his hands as he fought to regain his control. "S-so I guess this means we're doing it in the bathroom next?" 

This earned Dean another bark of laughter from Sam. "W-well, we do need a shower." Said Sam, laughter subsided.

"Really?" Dean perked up with more enthusiasm than he meant to show.

"Well, yeah obviously..." Sam gesturing to his uncomfortably wet crotch. 

"Ok, you can have it first." Dean stretched as he shifted himself up and off the bed, smiling to himself. "Jesus, I needed that." 

"What, the laughter or the sex?"

"Both." 

Dean groaned, as he closed his eyes in pleasure as he continued arching his back. He cracked open one eye and caught Sam staring at him with unrepressed wanting. Dean gave him a wicked grin. "Com'on, baby boy, take your shower before I jump in there instead." 

Dean grasped Sam's hand and pulled him up just like he'd done so many times after they've freshly dug grave. Sam's chest brushed against Dean's and he had to stifle a groan in his throat. He couldn't stop himself from looking into Sam's eyes at the contact. Sam smiled and leaned forward to give Dean a chaste kiss. He trailed a few more kisses along Dean's jaw line, lips brushing his ear as he seductively whispered, "I'll try to leave you some hot water." And he quickly ducked into the bathroom before Dean could protest.

**Author's Note:**

> Like the Winchesters, I work for free, but your gratitude in the form of comments is greatly appreciated.


End file.
